


Albus Potter and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

by SunshineScorpius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, M/M, a lot of swearing, albus has a potty mouth, albus is having a very very bad day, he's also very dense (just like his father), i relate to albus in that he runs away from all his problems, idiot plot, idiots to lovers, sort of anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 08:39:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19002262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineScorpius/pseuds/SunshineScorpius
Summary: Albus' day just keeps going from bad to worse, but don't all clouds have a silver lining?





	Albus Potter and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Albus Potter felt like his life was a really bad joke. Like the kind that comedians drag on for way too long and then when the punchline hits, all they get is an awkward laugh in response. That was Albus’ life. He was waiting for the very bad punchline.

Here’s the thing about Albus: he’s a loser. A true and total loser. Probably the biggest loser to ever grace Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And he’s a loser for many reasons. The main being that he was Harry Potters’ son. Yes, you’ve heard of him. The well-sought out war hero who went on to catch and imprison all the remaining Death Eaters following Voldemort’s demolish caused by – you guessed it – Harry Potter himself. Now Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Harry has made quite the name for himself.

Albus did not follow in his footsteps. His dad thrived in Defence Against the Dark Arts, he merely got by. He was every bit different in all ways but one: he looked annoyingly like him (he just hoped he never needed glasses).

Another reason why Albus Potter was a loser was because he was different. He wasn’t athletic like his brother (Merlin forbid Albus ever get on a broom again) and he wasn’t clever like his sister (she’d been creating potions since she was ten. TEN). He was different. He was Albus. That was how people usually explain him anyway: “oh, he’s just Albus,” and that was that.

Albus Potter was a loser because he had no friends. Correction: he had one friend. A best friend. Who was just as big of a loser (possibly could even give Albus a run for his money) as he was.

Scorpius Malfoy was Albus’ best friend. Yes, you heard that correctly. Malfoy. Son of Draco Malfoy. Harry Potters high school nemesis. Yep, their sons were best friends (way to get your dad to like you, Albie). So, there you have it, he’s a loser and he knows it. And apparently, so does the person pulling on the strings attached to his arms and legs.

That person seemed to be asleep or something, because even though Scorpius was shouting his name, Albus just couldn’t get out of bed. He’d had a horrible nights sleep, clouded with nightmares of his best friend being tortured and his screams ringing through his ears. He’d given up trying to sleep at around four in the morning and settled for listening to Scorpius breathing softly in the bed next to him.

It wasn’t creepy. It wasn’t. It was just him making sure he was alive.

Scorpius ripped his curtains open.

“Albus Severus Potter, I swear we’re going to be late for the careers meeting if you don’t hurry up and get your lazy arse out of bed!” He spoke whilst flailing his arms in a wild gesture. He was only half dressed himself, trousers and shirt on with his tie hung loosely around his neck and half his shirt buttons undone. There was a slight bit of his collarbone exposed, and Albus tried not to get too fixated on it as he rambled.

There was another thing that made Albus Potter a loser: he’d only gone and fallen in love with his bloody best friend. His bloody straight best friend. Who had a crush on his cousin. Well, he claimed the crush had gone, but Albus knew him better than that.

“The career things today?” Albus mumbled, forcing his body into a sitting position.

Scorpius stared at him with a deadpanned look. “Yes. You know it is. We’ve been told this over and over for the past month! And I told you last night, were you even listening to me?” Stupid question, Albus always listened to him. Because his voice was magnetic. It was impossible not to listen to him. Well, he thought that anyway. Most people said he was annoying, but if Scorpius' rambles about just about anything were annoying, then Albus would let him annoy him to no end all day, every day.

“I forgot, Scorp!” He protested. Scorpius sent him a glare.

“Up!” He demanded, like he was summoning a broom.

Albus obliged and scrambled out of bed. Scorpius told him he didn’t have time for a shower – _you would have, if you’d gotten up when I told you to_ – so he quickly changed into his uniform and just about managed to grab his bag before Scorpius was dragging him from the dorm room.

He should have known it would be a bad day from the get go – first: the bad nights sleep. Second: careers day.

The worst day ever.

That mornings lessons were cancelled, and the Great Hall had been transformed into a meeting space for various employers to come and talk to fifth- and seventh-year students about careers. As if Albus didn’t have enough to worry about with their upcoming O.W.L.s, he had to also pick a career as early as fifteen years old. It seemed like a cruel punishment to him.

Scorpius, however, was sorted. He’d known he wanted to be a healer since the age of nine. He never struggled with his studies, so he would have no problem being accepted into the St Mungos healing programme. Scorpius was only going to drag Albus around, knowing that he had absolutely no idea whatsoever what to do with his life.

“Potions?” Scorpius asked as he walked around the busy hall, keeping a hand on Albus' arm in case he lost him in the crowd. “You’re good at potions.”

“I’m passable. I wouldn’t say good.” Albus didn’t know, but he was sure Scorpius rolled his eyes.

“Magical creatures? You love Hagrid’s class.”

“I like my limbs, thanks,” Albus responded, sarcasm thick in his tone. Again, Scorpius rolled his eyes.

“Cursebreaker?”

“Too much travel involved.”

“An Auror?”

“And be like my dad?”

Scorpius sighed and turned to him. “There has to be something, Al.”

“I’m sorry, we don’t all have our life planned out from the age of nine!” Albus snapped, tugging his arm out of Scorpius’ grip. He was far too tired for this. Scorpius looked at him, then around at the stalls before landing back on him. Albus knew what that meant – he was getting anxious.

Big crowds tend to make Scorpius anxious. He tried to avoid them at all costs and under any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have needed to come to this. Albus was the only reason he was here. And Albus was acting like a git.

“Sorry, I tried to help,” Scorpius finally spoke and turned away, fighting through the growing crowd of Hogwarts students to the exit.

“Scorpius!” Albus shouted, going after him. “Scor!” He tried again but lost him to the crowd. Albus groaned and turned around, looking at the stalls. The least he could do was try and look for something he might want to do. At least then he’d look slightly grateful that Scorpius had dragged him there.

They never fought. Ever. Not since that time in their fourth year – but that was some alternate universe so Albus didn’t like to count it (even if it was actually them). The fact that he had managed to somehow piss Scorpius off only added to his already bad day. It was barely ten o’clock.

Sighing to himself, Albus plucked up the courage to walk around the stands, picking up various leaflets and books. On the odd occasion he got dragged into a conversation he had to pretend to care about. Nothing really stood out. In fact, Albus walked out even more confused than when he’d gone in – and under more pressure with the need to pick a career so his N.E.W.Ts – when he picked them – would match up to his ideal career. Without a career in mind, N.E.W.Ts would be difficult to pick.

Albus sighed and checked his watch, feeling the tiredness taking over. It was still an hour till lunch, maybe he could steal a quick nap in that time. He walked slowly down to the dungeons, lethargy taking over him. As he walked past the potions classroom, he was hit with a familiar smell.

Now, this is where Albus’ day goes from slightly bad to absolutely terrible.

He peered into the classroom, to find Scorpius hunched over a cauldron. The heat had caused his hair to go wavy and messy, and his cheeks had a reddish hue.

“Did you spill your cologne in here or something?” Albus asked, trying to keep a neutral tone. He hoped that if he acted normal, Scorpius would forget about their brief argument in the Great Hall. The smell was overbearing – of pine (the smell of Scorpius’ cologne); peppermint tea (the only thing Scorpius could drink in the morning); and vanilla (Scorpius’ shampoo).

Scorpius looked up from his potion, nose scrunched in confusion. “Huh?”

“It stinks of you in here, literally.” Albus walked further into the room, the smell growing stronger the closer he got to Scorpius and the potion. Scorpius’ face turned from confusion to realisation in a second, eyes wide as he held back a gasp.

“You – er – how was the careers thing?” He changed the subject, eyeing the potion warily.

Albus shrugged and sat down on the stool next him. “Alright. What’re you doing in here?”

“Making a potion,” he teased, stating the obvious.

“Funny. Seriously, what is that?”

“Extra credit. Professor Reus says that if I can learn half the syllabus for Advanced Potions this year, then the other half next year, I can sit the potions N.E.W.T next year.” He explained, beginning to bottle up the potion.

“Really? That’s amazing.” Scorpius was incredibly smart. If people liked him, he’d no doubt be the most popular boy in school, with his good looks and intelligence. Unfortunately, he was an outcast just like Albus. “So, what’s this?” Albus asked as he watched Scorpius bottle the pink potion.

“Amortentia.” Albus froze.

“Amor- what?” He stuttered. No.

“The love potion,” Scorpius explained, awkwardly adverting his eyes.

“Fuck.” That explains Scorpius’ earlier horrified look. Had it been horrified? It certainly looked horrified. It could have been shock. But no. There was a reason why Albus had never told his best friend he was in love with him. This was the reason.

And now Scorpius knew. Because Albus all but blurted out that he loved him by telling him exactly what – or rather, very specifically, who – he smelled.

“Albus, it’s totally o-”

“I have to go,” Albus blurted, interrupting him before he could break his heart.

“But, Al – Wait!” Albus didn’t wait. He ran out of there faster than a bolt of lightning. He didn’t go to the dorm, that’s exactly where Scorpius would look.

He ran through the castle without a destination in mind. Eventually, he ended up at the Owlery, and regretted ever coming. On the way up the stairs, he’d tripped over and split his knees open, leaving gauging holes in his new school trousers – new because he fell over (or was pushed) and ripped them, a lot. Luckily he had a couple of new pairs. And maybe Scorpius could fix them. If Scorpius ever talked to him again.

Now would be a great time for that comedian to crack the punchline.

Fuck. Could this day get any worse?

The answer: yes.

Because Al chose the second worse place in the castle to hide. The Owlery, where they first discovered who Delphi was and she snapped both their wands before taking them hostage. The first worst place would have been the Quidditch grounds, where she tortured Scorpius and Albus had to watch.

Despite the horrible memories swirling through his brain, he stayed. He stayed because he knew Scorpius wouldn’t look for him here, because they both hated it. Scorpius never kept his owl up here anymore. She stayed with them in dorm, despite the rules.

Albus stayed until his afternoon classes started. He managed to avoid Scorpius in magical creatures because he hadn’t taken it as an O.W.L unlike Albus. Just to make his day worse, he was pricked by one of the quills of a knarl he was studying. Hagrid sent him to the hospital wing to get it checked, even though it was only small. Couldn’t be too careful with magical creatures.

A part of Albus was hoping Pomfrey would keep him until after defence against the dark arts, but he had no such luck. Feeling way too tired to deal with anything, he trudged his way to the DADA classroom.

“Albus! I-” Albus walked straight past Scorpius and into the classroom, sitting at a desk already occupied. He didn’t look back, so he never saw the hurt look on Scorpius’ face. He did, however, notice Scorpius sit at the back of the classroom, which was quite uncharacteristic of him.

Of course, they had to be doing a recap lesson. And of course, that day it just happened to be on boggarts. And his day got worse and worse.

Scorpius straight up refused to participate. He sat out at the back of the classroom, head in a DADA book after claiming he didn’t feel well and would like to sit it out. Albus envied him, and wished he’d thought of doing the same thing.

Because when he stepped up to the wardrobe and the boggart shifted into Scorpius, he felt like he could die. Boggart-Scorpius let out an excruciating scream, alerting the attention of everyone, as he crumpled to the floor in pain. He screamed for Albus to help him, but Albus couldn’t. Even then, even when it wasn’t real he couldn’t help him.

The spell went from his mind. Never mind he had heard it twenty-seven times already that afternoon. All he could focus on was that scream. That pain his best friend was experiencing. Albus dropped his wand – not that he recalled raising it in the first place. He dropped to his knees, the pain of his previous trip-up barely registering as Scorpius’ screams ripped through the classroom.

 _“Riddikulus!”_ That was the spell.

The screaming stopped.

The room was deadly silent.

Scorpius bent down to him, placing a hand on his arm.

“Al, are you alright?” It was Scorpius who stepped in front of the boggart. Albus almost forgot he was in the room. It made it ten times worse, knowing he had to re-live that memory too.

Albus ran.

If only Albus’ day ended there.

He had no such luck.

By dinner, a rumour had spread that Albus let his best friend get tortured and he liked watching. How anyone got that rumour, he didn’t know. Teenagers liked to stir things up. By the end of dinner, it had changed to Albus torturing Scorpius because he had a pain kink.

By the end of pudding the whispers were almost too much to bear. Scorpius hadn’t turned up to dinner, which he only ever did when he was struggling with something mentally. That was all Albus’ fault. He’d been ignoring him all day even when he tried to talk. But Albus just wasn’t prepared to hear what he had to say. He wasn’t ready for the rejection.

Albus let the rumour get out of hand. They all knew what really happened; it was released in the press days after Delphi’s capture. Still, teenagers had wild imaginations, and they seemed to get wilder when it involved the two people they hated most in the world.

On his way back to the dorm, Albus began to wonder exactly what his life would be like without Scorpius. He’d done it once before and it was the worst few weeks of his life. They’d only grown closer after the events of fourth year, and now Albus wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to function without him.

Figuring this day couldn’t get any worse, Albus vowed to talk to Scorpius when he got back to the dorm.

But when he arrived, Scorpius wasn’t there.

Albus flopped onto his bed, ready to drown in his self-misery when he spotted a note on his bed-side table. He picked it up and read it:

_I’ll be back just before curfew. Scorp._

In his impeccable handwriting, and even though they were fighting – were they fighting? – Scorpius had left a note for Albus to make sure he wouldn’t worry. Even if they did make up and were still friends, Albus was sure he didn’t deserve Scorpius Malfoy.

The day had taken its toll, so Albus admitted defeat and curled up into a ball. He was still in his school uniform, but that didn’t stop him drifting off. He was woken a couple hours later to Scorpius shaking his shoulder.

“Al,” he whispered, shaking him. Albus groaned and opened his eyes, only to be met with a half-smile from Scorpius (the kind of smile he only pulled when he wasn’t sure what else to do). “Are you ready to actually talk to me yet? You can’t avoid me forever.”

 _I can if I try hard enough,_ he thought.

Albus sighed and sat up. “What did you want to talk about?” He asked, feigning innocence. Wow, he was an idiot.

“You’re an idiot.” _Thanks, Scorp._

“I’m sure you’re probably right, but why?”

“I thought I was being pretty obvious, I all but wrote ‘date me Albus Potter’ on my forehead, but you still never got the message.”

_What?_

“Huh?”

“The potion. You smelt me right?” Scorpius asked, now sounding unsure. Albus was too stunned to reply. “Right? Please don’t tell me I’ve read all this wrong. I thought you freaked out because I found out and you thought I would freak so you did that Albus-y thing where you try to hide from your problems and I tried to tell you it was okay and that I felt the same but then you ran out before I could and now I’m definitely reading this all wrong judging by the look on your face and oh my, please don’t hate me Albus. I’m sorry, it’s fine, I need you as a friend more than anything, but I guess you know now, just don’t hate me.”

“Hate you?” Albus truly was an idiot. His brain was about three minutes behind in this conversation. He was still stuck on Scorpius asking him to date him. Indirectly, but still asking.

“You do, don’t you? Fuck, I’m sorry,” and Albus laughed because swearing was so uncharacteristic coming from Scorpius that it sounded funny in his posh accent. Scorpius never laughed.

_Catch up, Albus. Before you screw this up as well._

“I don’t hate you,” Albus said. “I the-opposite-of-hate you.”

Scorpius let out a relieved sigh. “Really?”

“Was that not obvious? I all but wrote ‘date me Scorpius Malfoy’ on my forehead,” he mocked, copying Scorpius’ earlier gestures and everything.

Scorpius pushed him. “Don’t mock me!” He protested, but the amusement in his tone gave away his real emotions. As did the growing smile on his adorable face.

“Wait,” Albus said. “Do you the-opposite-of-hate me, too?”

“Wow, you really are dense. Yes, Albus. I love you.”

Albus choked on his own breath. _Love._ Scorpius Malfoy admitted he loved him. Scorpius Malfoy loved him? The Scorpius Malfoy. His best friend. Love.

“Oh,” he said softly.

Scorpius shook his head at him fondly. “You are a piece of work, Potter,” he teased, but leaned in and crashed his lips into Albus’. Albus could taste the faint flavour of peppermint tea on his lips. Desperate to deepen the kiss, Albus pulled Scorpius towards him so he was straddling his lap. They were both careful not to break their rhythm.

Maybe, Albus thought, this day was not as bad as he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments welcome, hope you all enjoyed it!


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